Region of Sobs
by madisonlilly
Summary: Severus Snape is given a special assignment for the summer. Protecting an American Muggle. But why would she need protecting? New Chapter-Who is behind the attack? (bet you can guess)
1. Summer Assignment

AN: Ok so this story sprung into my head fully formed (almost), meaning that hopefully I will be able to update it regularly as long as I get reviews. I have become suddenly obsessed with a certain Potions Master so this is my story focusing on the always entertaining Severus Snape. You may also notice some similarities to my other story "Secrets of the Mind," I admit that I have a bit of thing for fish out of water stories and also mysterious main characters who hide a great secret and all that. It seems that this story has stolen all of my writing mojo so please forgive it if you like "Secrets of the Mind" I promise at some point I will update that one but right now this one is struggling to get out and I am giving it precedence. I have a good amount of the chapters written so updates depend on reviews, if I get review, you get updates. Anyway..  
  
Disclaimers: The title comes from a quote from Ambrose Bierce that I will borrow heavily from later but I will be sure to give proper credit as has been drilled into my head. Speaking of crediting people, I do not own any of the Harry Potter franchise, they come from the mind of J.K. Rowling as we all know.  
  
REGION OF SOBS  
  
Chapter One - Summer Assignment  
  
*****  
  
Professor Severus Snape sighed as he sat back in his chair. He could hear the shout of children outside headed to the train. He allowed himself a moment of respite, rejoicing that he was rid of them for the summer. He quickly recomposed himself, sitting arrow straight in his desk chair, remembering Dumbledore's urgent request for a meeting.  
  
He left his office in the dungeons and headed towards the headmaster's office. He quickly came to the gargoyles and speaking the ridiculous password (Wizarding Wheezes) he headed into the headmaster's office. He knew that this meeting was about the Order and what he was needed for over the summer. He had never been much for vacations so losing his vacation time did not bother him in the least.  
  
When he entered he found Dumbledore sitting behind his desk flipping through a file. He looked up as the potions master entered. "Ahh, Severus. Thank you for coming so quickly." He laid the papers he held onto his desk and gestured for the younger man to sit.  
  
Professor Snape took a seat in a large wingback chair in front of the cluttered desk of the headmaster. He silently waited for the headmaster to reveal the reason for the urgent meeting. He had learned patience through the years and knew that allowing people to come to things in their own time was always better than pressing them.  
  
Dumbledore rearranged the papers in the file in front of him then looked at the professor that sat patiently awaiting him. Dumbledore studied the professor in front of him for a long moment; he was beginning to look old, the lines in his face more pronounced and dark circles forming under his eyes. His black hair hung limply into his face which had become very gaunt and his eyes appeared emptier than they had been only a year before.  
  
"Severus I have to ask you to carry out a special assignment for the Order. I believe that the time has come for you to disentangle yourself from Voldemort. I believe you have possibly outstayed your welcome with the Death Eaters, it is likely they are becoming suspicious of your actions." Here the headmaster paused allowing the information to sink in. Professor Snape made no move, his face reflecting no emotion. "I have an assignment that is much more important and I believe your skills will be well suited for the job."  
  
Dumbledore closed the file in front of him and handed it to Professor Snape who leaned forward and took the file, placing it in his lap. "Severus I ask that you keep an open mind, first impressions can be deceiving. This file was made by a Muggle detective that was hired to find somebody. The person described in the file will need protection; she is of the utmost importance to both sides of this war. She has been the target of much of Voldemort's time and energy recently. Please look over the file now; I'm sure there will be some questions."  
  
Professor Snape opened the manila folder in his lap and found within it a stack of thin white papers with perfect writing in black ink down the page. He quickly realized that it must have been from a Muggle machine. Why couldn't they just write like normal people? The neat printing read:  
  
Name: Beth Ann Jackson  
Age: unknown, approx. 22-27  
Date and Place of Birth: unknown  
Place of Residence: Savannah, Georgia, USA  
Occupation: Elementary School Teacher  
Education: Masters in Education from unknown school  
  
The paper continued with her interests, people that she associated with, stores and shops she frequented, and finally ended with a conclusion by the detective that she was not who she claimed to be due to the many unknowns. Behind this were some notes taken by hand then a collection of photographs, the Muggle kind.  
  
Snape did not bother with the photos yet. He flipped slowly through the notes from the detective and asked, while still looking at the notes, "She lives in the Muggle world?"  
  
Dumbledore, his fingers steepled in front of his face, cleared his throat and for a moment looked nervous. "She is a Muggle." He answered apprehensively.  
  
The man in front of him slowly raised his eyes to the headmaster in front of him, "A Muggle?" He said, at a loss for how to respond.  
  
"Yes Severus, she knows nothing of our world and that will be a most important detail to remember." Dumbledore said calmly, watching his spy for a response.  
  
"And the Dark Lord is in search of her? For what reason?" Snape said disbelieving.  
  
"She may be a Muggle but she harbors a secret that Voldemort is willing to kill for and has killed for. Unfortunately all we know of her and her secret is what you find in that file." Dumbledore said grimly.  
  
The man in front of him seemed stunned, his eyes widened momentarily before he recomposed himself. What kind of secret would a Muggle carry that the Dark Lord would need or want? More importantly, why had he not found her if she was only a Muggle?  
  
"Under what pretext will I be protecting her?" Snape said slowly, wondering what he could do that would keep him close enough to know if something was wrong but not divulge the secrets of the Magical world to her.  
  
"You will be living with her. She has been convinced that she needs a housemate to help pay the bills so you will be her boarder. She has a room with a fireplace set up for you so that you may remain in touch by floo powder. She believes that you are a Muggle professor who needs quiet and solitude to finish a textbook that you are working on. I believe that this is the best situation, you will be in close proximity if she should be in danger and you will be allowed a certain amount of privacy."  
  
The potions master registered complete shock, his eyes widening and mouth momentarily parted in surprise. He dropped his gaze to the file in his lap as if looking for answers there. The shocked look slowly turned into a glare as he became angry at the thought of spending his summer with a silly Muggle girl. He cannot be serious, Snape thought, how can he expect me to agree to this.  
  
"Severus, I understand your shock but please allow me to reiterate how important this girl is." He paused allowing this to sink in before saying, "You of course have a choice whether to accept this assignment or not."  
  
Snape slowly brought his gaze away from the file in his lap up to look the older man in the eye, "Headmaster, there must be other members of the Order who are better suited for this task. I know nothing of young Muggles," especially females, he thought, as he paused collecting his thoughts "I am not an expert in the Muggle world, I know very little. Perhaps someone who could relate better to a young Muggle would be more appropriate." He said a bit flustered. Who would choose him, Severus Snape to protect a young girl? Most girls believed they needed protecting from him.  
  
"Severus, do not underestimate yourself. You know enough about the Muggle world and as I said before you are the best person for this assignment, I would not think of sending anyone into this situation but you. You are gifted at the skills that may be required when living in such close proximity to Miss Jackson."  
  
"Are you implying, sir, that this Muggle girl could be dangerous?" The professor sneered.  
  
"Severus as I said before first impressions can be deceiving as can appearances. I do not know what it is that Voldemort wants with her but she must hide something that could be of use to him. Whatever it is it could be dangerous and I believe that you are the person to help her hide that secret." Dumbledore replied calmly.  
  
"Then I am to help her keep this secret, not to find out what it is that the Dark Lord wants?" Snape questioned.  
  
"Our number one priority is her safety and that may mean keeping the secret, well, secret. After all, the secret once told is no longer a secret, even if told to only one other." Dumbledore said, the familiar twinkle lighting his eyes.  
  
Professor Snape looked back down at the file in his lap. He flipped past the notes from the investigator and pulled the pictures out. They were color Muggle photos of a girl in various locations. She was very pretty; her hair was strawberry blond, her features childlike and soft. He flipped to a picture that showed her looking almost directly at the photographer. Her ice blue eyes were shining; a few hairs had escaped from beneath her large straw hat and framed the soft features of her face. She wore a conservative dress with a flowing skirt that showed her to be thin with a beautiful figure without revealing an unreasonable amount of skin.  
  
The girl was a beautiful women-child and suddenly Severus Snape the most hated professor at Hogwarts understood. His special skill that Dumbledore had referred to was his unsociability, his aloofness, his animosity toward any other human being. There was no fear that he would begin any sort of relationship with a girl like her. No one need worry that she would become infatuated with her house guest cum bodyguard or that he would become infatuated with her.  
  
"She is expecting you tomorrow, if you consent to carrying out the assignment." Dumbledore broke into his thoughts.  
  
"I will go." Came the whispered answer. Professor Severus Snape felt as if he had just signed his freedom away but he was willing to do whatever Dumbledore asked of him, including this. 


	2. The Arrival

AN-1: I have been reediting the rest of the story and I had to add more to the end of this chapter. Hope it doesn't cause any confusion. It makes the chapter longer so that's good right? Oh and I got another review, thank you so much izzybelle, hope you enjoy this newly edited chapter.  
  
AN-2: Ok so I only got one review so this is entirely dedicated to CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur. I hope you enjoy this chapter, thank you so much for the review. If anybody else is reading, I need reviews so that I know to update, I don't want to have to beg.  
  
Disclaimers: The title comes from a quote from Ambrose Bierce that I will borrow heavily from later but I will be sure to give proper credit as has been drilled into my head. Speaking of crediting people, I do not own any of the Harry Potter franchise; they come from the mind of J.K. Rowling as we all know.  
  
REGION OF SOBS  
  
Chapter Two - The Arrival  
  
*****  
  
The sharp knock on the door startled her from her cleaning. The house was spotless but she was so nervous about acquiring a house guest that she could not stop herself rearranging knick-knacks and wiping the kitchen counters. She put the cleaning rag down and brushed herself off, although her long flower print dress was as spotless as the house. She rushed to the door, pulling on her neat white gloves as she went.  
  
She paused a moment to collect herself before opening the door. She had been living alone for so long that she wasn't sure how this would work out. In her experience the English were a stuffy, proper bunch that did not often smile and rarely laughed. She was anxious to find out about the puzzle on the other side of the door. With a deep breath she swung the door open to see what enigma awaited her for the summer.  
  
She plastered a smile on her face, fighting the urge to gasp at the man in front of her. He was the picture of menace, his mouth was set and his cheeks hollow, his black hair hung limp and greasy almost to his chin and his eyes seemed to be endless dark caverns. He wore a shirt as black as his eyes buttoned high beneath his chin and black pants to match. The ashen gray of his face and hands seemed ghostly surrounded by the solid black.  
  
"Miss Jackson, I am Severus Snape." He said in a low voice that seemed only a degree above a whisper.  
  
"I'm Beth Ann Jackson." She said then paused still staring, "Oh, please come in." She said quickly trying to cover up her astonishment. She moved aside as he stepped through the doorway and watched as he took a cursory look around the room then turned back to her.  
  
She was leaning against the still opened door chewing on her bottom lip and gazing at him, her eyes the palest blue. She looked almost Nordic but for her strawberry blond hair held back in a neat bun. She wore the same dress that she had been wearing in the picture. He met her gaze then slowly his lips formed their distinctive sneer, "Will you be showing me around or shall I find my own way?"  
  
She raised her eyebrows at him then allowed a small smile to flit across her lips as she turned and closed the door. When she turned back to him she had a funny little half smile on her face, her pale eyes sparkled at him. She took a step or two towards him then clasped the gloved hands together in front of her, "So Mr. Snape, does it work on your students?"  
  
He was surprised, most people would have taken offense at what he had just said, he raised his eyebrows and asked in a voice that sounded close to a growl, "Pardon?"  
  
"Does intimidation work on the students in England?" She said as she began to move around him, giving him a wide berth. "Because you certainly are the most intimidating figure I have seen in quite some time." She paused beside him still several feet from him, and then offered him something that he rarely saw, a genuine smile. "This way." She said with the wide smile still on her face.  
  
He turned and watched her walk away, bewildered by what had just transpired. He had insulted her and in return she had teased him, and then smiled at him. Part of him was angry, not just angry, but livid at the idea that she was laughing at him, but another part of him, the part that even he didn't know about, rejoiced at the fact that a beautiful girl, no woman, had just smiled at him. He roused himself from his reverie resolving to think about it later and strode quickly after her.  
  
He followed her to the kitchen where she turned and said pleasantly, all business now, "This is the kitchen. I figure we can split the grocery bill. You're more than welcome to cook whatever you want. I do cook supper sometimes and I'd be happy if you'd join me." She walked back through the door of the kitchen and headed toward a set of stairs while saying over her shoulder, "This is the den, your more than welcome to camp out and watch TV or use the computer."  
  
He looked around the room as he strode through it noticing the black box that all the furniture seemed to face and the desk in the corner with another strange machine on it. He took a deep breath; this was going to be difficult.  
  
Ahead of him she had started up the stairs and was asking over her shoulder again, "So how was your flight?"  
  
What did she mean flight? He hadn't flown or even flooed, he had apparated into a neighbor's house across the street. The same neighbor who had convinced this girl she needed a housemate. He thought the girl must be daft thinking he would take a broom all the way across the ocean. Then he realized, she didn't even know about brooms, she must think he took a Muggle airplane.  
  
"It was fine." He said quickly.  
  
He was trying to cover for his hesitation, but the hesitation had not gone unnoticed. She was puzzled for a moment but chose to keep her thoughts to herself.  
  
"You must be awfully tired, I'm sure you want to unpack and rest." She said as she reached the top of the stairs and opened a door on her left. "This is your room." She said as she led him in, "The bathroom is at the end of the hall, I laid some towels out for you on the counter." She moved around the room, smoothing the bedspread and straightening a picture as she went. "My room is right across the hall; feel free to knock if you need anything. There is a library office through that door," she pointed to a door next to the bed, "You're more than welcome to go in there whenever and use whatever books you want or the desk or whatever." She stopped straightening things and looked up at him. He seemed to be staring at her, dumbfounded by her stream of words. "I'll leave you to your unpacking then." She said and she moved towards the door.  
  
"Thank you, Miss Jackson." He said as she passed him.  
  
She turned on him quickly in the doorway, "No Mr. Snape, its Beth Ann, I'm no Miss." She said seriously with a bit of sadness in her eyes then smiled as if laughing off her seriousness and turned and walked down the stairs.  
  
She was definitely an odd Muggle, not that he had known many Muggles to compare her to, but he found her a bit disquieting what with the gloves she wore and the strange way that she had looked at him just now. He pondered her strangeness for a moment before putting the small Muggle duffel bag that Dumbledore had given him down on the bed and closing the door, locking the small lock.  
  
He pulled his wand out of his pocket, where it had been concealed, and set about putting up silencing charms to keep the girl from hearing his floo conversations. He took the small vase that contained floo powder out of his bag and placed it on the ornate mantle above the fireplace.  
  
He opened the closet and began pulling his clothes out of the duffel bag. Dumbledore had warned him against robes of any sort and had sent someone, Snape shuttered to think who, to get him Muggle clothes. It appeared that whoever had bought his wardrobe knew of his fondness for black. He found three black button-down dress shirts, one dark green button-down, four pairs of black pants exactly like the pair he now wore, one pair of Muggle blue jeans and a long black overcoat that looked to him very like his robes.  
  
He found everything that he needed, toiletries, clothes, and shoes, had been packed into the small duffel bag which must have been charmed to hold more than it physically should. To a Muggle he might seem very like Mary Poppins pulling lamps and such out of that small bag, but he didn't know who Mary Poppins was and would probably be very angry at the allusion if he did.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Beth Ann went back downstairs wondering about the strange man that she now lived with. Ms. Miroslav had suggested that she get a housemate and had even helped her contact Mr. Snape, but Beth Ann now had trouble seeing Ms. Miroslav, the sweet old lady across the square, as friends with this man. She went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of sweet tea; this was going to take some getting used to and with a man like that it would be even more difficult.  
  
She sat in the kitchen reading for a while; she hadn't heard any sounds from upstairs. Perhaps he had gone to sleep, she couldn't remember the time difference but maybe he was just jetlagged. Sleeping the day away won't help that, she thought. She went upstairs, intent on finding out if he was asleep or not. She went into her room first and put her book down, then headed into the library office that adjoined his room. She was surprised to find the door to his room open to the library and even more surprised to glimpse him sitting on the bed surrounded by books.  
  
She cleared her throat making her presence known but did not try to bother him. She looked on the bookshelves as if searching for a specific book. She heard him come to the door and knew that he was watching her but pretended not to notice. He was definitely odd but she was not going to let that bother her, she was going to make sure that he had a good time while staying with her. She pulled a book out and turned around; he was looking at some books beside the door.  
  
"Oh, Mr. Snape, I thought you might be asleep." She said acting surprised. "But you know the best way to cure jetlag is not to sleep it off but to force your body into a different sleep schedule. At least that's what I've always been told." She said as she began to flip through the book she was holding.  
  
"You have quite a collection." He said in his whispery voice.  
  
She was startled and looked up at him. He motioned to all the books in the room, "Some of these are very old."  
  
She cleared her throat, "Yes well, I'm a bit of a collector. I work at a bookstore through the summer. I love reading, the smell of books, the feel of the binding. Well I'm sure you know what I mean." She said embarrassed at her candor.  
  
He did not respond only looked down at a book he held in his hands and began to flip through the pages.  
  
"Mr. Snape, would you like a tour of Savannah?" She said on a whim. She was determined in her decision to make sure that his visit was a pleasant one.  
  
"That will not be necessary." He said curtly, moving toward the door.  
  
"What are you a professor of?" She said quickly before he had made it into his room.  
  
He stopped then turned slowly towards her, his face a mask of indifference, "Science." He said brusquely. She should have figured that, he looked like a scientist, cold and calculating.  
  
"Mr. Snape, you are in one of the oldest cities in the States, certainly a city with a lot of interesting history, you cannot possibly stay here without seeing the city." She said bluntly.  
  
He eyed her suspiciously, why would she want to show him the city? "I have work to do." He said trying to sound a bit less abrasive; perhaps she was just trying to be kind.  
  
"I'm sure that you can take your first day off, I won't take no for an answer. You get yourself settled today and tomorrow we will go out and see the city." She said cheerily, she smiled at him then turned to leave the room. "Oh and Mr. Snape, we're going to be walking around so I would suggest something other than black, it can get awfully hot out there." With that she turned and left the room, quite pleased with herself. He hadn't protested too much so she felt sure that he was not totally against the idea.  
  
Snape returned to his room and shut the door; this was not going to be easy. She was so eager and that definitely did not appeal to him, he was irritated at her pushiness, why couldn't she just leave him alone. 


	3. The First City

AN: Ok so this chapter was divided into two different chapters but I decided that I want to hurry up and get to the exciting parts so I put them together.  
  
AN2: No I have not disappeared I'm just in hiding. I'm sorry it's taken so long, I have been really busy and haven't been able to write as much as I want. Chapter four is not finished so it will probably be a while before I update again. Sorry. If I get lots of reviews though I might be motivated to get it finished and up faster. Anyway, enjoy and please review.  
  
REGION OF SOBS  
  
Chapter Three – The First City  
  
He was already in the kitchen when she came down, the next morning. He was sipping from a cup of tea and reading a large, very old looking book. He wore a black long sleeved dress shirt along with black slacks. He looks like a mortician, Beth Ann thought as she took out some bread to make toast.  
  
She turned from the bread with the same half smile that she had worn yesterday and said in all her southern glory, "J'eat, yet?"  
  
Snape, being engrossed in his book on transfiguration potions had not noticed the smile at first but looked up to find it plastered across her face when he heard what he suspected to be a foreign language coming out of her mouth. He stared at her for a bit as she continued to smile at him, he finally managed to croak out, "Pardon?"  
  
"I said, J'eat yet?" she said that half smile firmly in place. She relished the look of bewilderment that flitted across his features, quickly being taken over by the same scowl he seemed to always wear. Before that scowl could work itself into anger she quickly explained. "Its southern for 'Have you eaten yet?' I believe you will find that, even though we southerners speak English, we speak a distinct dialect that, to most outsiders, is quite difficult to decipher." She said in perfect, unaccented English.  
  
He was amazed at how natural the southern dialect as she called it seemed to roll from her lips and how quickly she switched back to her unaccented English. He responded by raising an eyebrow at her then looking back down into his book as he said, "Then it is good I have a translator."  
  
She laughed as she turned back to the bread, "Would you like some toast?"  
  
"No thank you, I have eaten." He said, reaching for his teacup, not removing his eyes from the book.  
  
There were a few moments of silence as she set about making the toast and pouring herself some juice. Snape peered over the top of his book to gaze at her while she fixed her breakfast. She wore another flowing dress, this one a periwinkle color, that hit her mid-calf, it had small lace sleeves and collar that matched the lace gloves that she wore. Her hair was again up in a bun and she wore not a bit of makeup on her youthful face. He found himself wondering what a girl so young and beautiful could hide that the Dark Lord might want.  
  
She turned towards the table and Snape quickly lowered his eyes to his book. She sat down across from him, picking up a magazine that sat on the table and proceeded to do the same thing that he had been doing. Slyly appraising him from behind her magazine she wondered at his stoicism, he seemed so distant and sour. She watched him read and realized that he wasn't happy, he seemed to be lonely, but she could not tell why. She looked down again and laid the magazine aside as she finished eating, pondering the isolated man in front of her. Perhaps, she thought, he is happier than he looks; perhaps he is just a very private person. She laughed at herself then, you are always trying to make the best of people, it can't always be done she thought.  
  
"Mr. Snape?" She said, cautiously, not wanting to interrupt his solitude. "I believe we should get started as soon as possible. If we wait too late it will be so hot you won't even make it one block in all that black."  
  
He looked up at her and felt a groan growing in his mind; she really meant to drag him all over town. "If you insist." He sneered putting the book on the table.  
  
~~~~~  
  
They left the house, him in his dismal black, her in the light summer dress and a floppy white hat. She walked down the steps to the street and waited until he was beside her before telling him where she meant to take him. His scowl became deeper as she began walking and cheerily told him of the layout of the city, and the black that he wore began to absorb the heat of the day.  
  
She led him to the next square and pointed out the sites as they walked. She took him through Pulaski Square and over to Madison Square, where she pointed out the old Armory and an ornate old Temple. From there she headed toward Monterey Square, he trailed a bit behind her now, the heat beginning to tire him, but she was proudly pointing out the Mercer House, an Italianate, red brick mansion.  
  
When she didn't get any response from him at this house she lead him to the middle of the square and sat down on a bench. He sat at the other end of the bench arrow straight. She glanced over at him and noticed the sheen of sweat that had appeared on his brow. She wasn't one to say 'I told you so' but she had warned him, hadn't she.  
  
Beth Ann began chatting amiably about the house that they now sat in front of and the history of its previous owners. "It was begun by Johnny Mercer's great-grandfather but sold before it was actually finished or any of the Mercers actually lived there. Johnny Mercer was a song writer, he's buried over at Bonaventure." She paused to glance at the man beside her, he didn't seem a bit interested, the only movement he made was to brush his now damp hair out of his face and pull at his collar. She dropped her voice now and slid closer to him, whispering conspiratorially. "But the real interesting story is what happened in the 80's. The rich man that refurbished that house murdered his lover, his male lover, right there in that room." She pointed to one of the windows. "He used to throw great parties, but then one night..... They say the boy was a gigolo. Well Williams went through all kinds of trials; don't think he was ever convicted though." She smiled and stopped her narrative, glancing at him again, she saw him raise his eyebrows.  
  
"An interesting history." He said simply.  
  
"Would you like to go to the carriage house, there is a shop in there and it will be cooler?"  
  
He gave a curt nod; he could possibly find a secluded corner and cast a quick cooling charm. He should have thought of it before but hadn't believed it to be necessary. He was not used to the stifling humidity that made the air seem as thick as water. He stood and followed her as she led him behind the house they had been facing.  
  
Once inside the small shop she began browsing and saw Snape move towards the back of the store. Was he trying to get away from her or was he actually interested in the merchandise? She couldn't tell but wasn't particularly bothered either way. A few minutes later he returned carrying a book and looking much more comfortable than he had when they entered the shop. She raised her eyebrows at him and moved over to see what he had picked up. He held a thick paperback with the title "Voodoo Potions: Communing With the Dead." She tried to stifle her giggle but to no avail, he noticed and glared at her.  
  
"What is funny? I believe it will be interesting to find what sorts of concoctions they make." He practically growled at her.  
  
"Mr. Snape those books are made for tourists, they're not real. If you're interested in Chemistry and that sort of thing, there are much better books." She said trying valiantly to hide her smile.  
  
"I will give this one a try." He said briskly, sneering, and turned his back on her like a stubborn child. He was irritated that she had laughed at him but he knew that she would be suspicious if he had returned from the back of the store without an article to buy. Besides he believed that this book might amuse him, reading a Muggle's silly idea of potions would keep his mind off of other things.  
  
He was amazed to find that she had been right when she said that Southerners speak a distinct dialect, he actually had trouble understanding the woman behind the counter. She was a kindly older lady that smiled at him and spoke slowly with a lazy drawl that made every syllable sound like sugared honey. Beside him Beth Ann smiled and exchanged pleasantries with the woman in her own southern drawl, his eyebrows rising when he heard the woman insinuate that he and Beth Ann were a couple. He noticed the blush creep onto Beth Ann's cheeks as she stuttered correcting the woman. She quickly turned to leave and he grabbed the bag containing the book following her out of the store.  
  
They left the store and headed towards Forsyth Park. Beth Ann walked beside him with a bounce in her step, "This is my favorite place in Savannah." She said, the dappled sunlight filtering through the trees making her eyes shine.  
  
She could tell he was still sour about her laughing at him so she chose to regale him with stories of the city's famous residents and history. She told him the story of the "Waving Girl," who had met every ship coming into and leaving the harbor for more than forty years. She told him of Sherman's march to the sea and the secret evacuation of the Confederate forces, and the sparing of the fair city of Savannah due to Sherman's own hesitation.  
  
Severus Snape felt himself soften as she told the stories, he was not as irritable now that he was cool and he found himself enjoying her stories. He again began pondering what it could be that she hid, something that the Dark Lord could desire, she seemed happy and carefree. He realized from listening to her stories that she was a smart girl, full of knowledge and eager to share. It suddenly struck him that she seemed lonely, not in an overt way, but something more subtle, the way she delighted in telling him these stories and showing him around, she seemed happy to be able to share with someone.  
  
She was quiet now, and sighed in a contented sort of way. "Perhaps we should get back to the house." She said as they continued to walk. "You don't seem to be too hot but I might end up with heat stroke here in a bit. I wouldn't want you to have to carry me back to the house." She glanced sideways at him and saw a smile dart across his lips, not lingering but enough that she had noticed. He seemed to be quite proud of himself; perhaps he felt that he had proven her wrong about the heat.  
  
He couldn't help but let a smile escape his lips, she had been so sure it would be him to pass out from the heat and here she was saying that she was hot. Well he did have quite a bit of help from the charm that he had performed in the small shop but he could still feel the heat. The sun was high in the sky and everything seemed to be in slow motion, the trees scarcely stirring with wind, the people in the park moving slowly and laboriously.  
  
They began to walk back towards the house both lost in their own thoughts, each thinking of the other. To both the other person seemed a mystery, an enigma to decipher. Their personalities were very different, her inclined to hopefulness and cheerfulness and him disposed to sullenness and moodiness. As different as they were they both came upon the same thought as they approached the house, this would most certainly be an interesting summer. 


	4. Normality and Change

AN: I know it's been a long time but I am having some trouble with these next chapters and am a bit disillusioned by the response. Not very many reviews, but the ones I'm getting are great so please keep it up, they help me a lot. I had to split this chapter up because it was getting long. From this chapter on there should be a bit more excitement. I also have a good bit more of the story written from here on out. Thanks for reading and please review.  
  
Disclaimers: The title comes from a quote from Ambrose Bierce that I will borrow heavily from later but I will be sure to give proper credit as has been drilled into my head. Speaking of crediting people, I do not own any of the Harry Potter franchise; they come from the mind of J.K. Rowling as we all know.  
  
REGION OF SOBS  
  
Chapter 4 - Normality and Change  
  
After a few days stuck in the house creating lesson plans and studying books on potion theory Snape became bored with the tedium that each day seemed to bring. He even brought himself so low as to explore the television that Beth Ann had pointed out. She had watched a show on it last night and invited him to join her but he had made an excuse and headed to his room.  
  
Today, though, she wasn't there and he was bored stiff. He found it fairly easy to control by pushing the buttons below the screen and quickly became fascinated by the Muggle invention. On the screen a redheaded woman was railing at a man, fire leaping in her eyes, it seemed that the man had recently had an affair with another woman. Then the man explained to the woman, whose name he found to be Miranda that he could not be with her anymore because he was actually her half brother. Snape visibly recoiled at this, wondering at the lives of Muggles, how could she not have known this bit of information. It seems the lives of these people continued to spiral downward until a male voice cut in and announced that next time Tad would find out a secret that would almost break him and Cally would wake from her coma.  
  
Slowly Snape realized that the few minutes that he had watched were fictional, a story that someone had written. He quickly punched buttons until the screen went black, that invention was definitely not worth his time, if he cared about that sort of thing he would listen to the pictures gossip at Hogwarts.  
  
Life in the small townhouse soon fell into a routine. Beth Ann went to work at the bookstore, Snape spent his days reading and creating new lesson plans and potion theories. The two housemates soon became somewhat comfortable with each other and spent evenings reading in the den in relative ease.  
  
Snape kept Dumbledore updated by floo conversations but found after two weeks that there was nothing to report, and learned that the Order had not heard much out of the Death Eaters either. They had not been summoned he knew, but the lack of activity on Voldemort's part unnerved him.  
  
Snape entered the kitchen after one of his uneventful conversations with Dumbledore to find Beth Ann scurrying around, several pots boiling on the stove. She was muttering to herself and he heard what distinctly sounded like a curse in some other language as she dropped what looked like a potato. He felt a chuckle bubbling in his chest as he noticed her usually perfect hair was popping out of its loose bun and curling around her face. It looked like all it took to get this girl riled up was to set too many boiling pots on the stove.  
  
He quickly pushed the threatening laughter down and composed his face into its mask of neutrality. "May I help?" He asked. With a startled squeak she spun around to face him, hair flying, brow glistening with a sheen of sweat, wielding a rather large knife.  
  
"Please." She said sounding ridiculously harried for someone who was only cooking. "Oh catch that one it's about to boil over." She said gesturing with the knife as she noticed a pot on the stove. He took a quick step towards it and picked it up before the liquid boiled over onto the stove.  
  
"What is all of this? You needn't bother yourself this much." He said scoffing slightly.  
  
She smoothed her hair and moved to the stove beside him turning the heat down on the burners and stirring one of the pots. She finished and turned towards him, the ever present little smile playing on her lips, "It's not for you, goose*." He felt his eyebrows rise in a look of utter bewilderment. "You can put that back on the stove but be sure to stir it for me please." She moved back to cutting up the vegetables by the sink.  
  
"What, then, is the occasion?" He said thoroughly unnerved by her strange choice of epithet.  
  
"You thought I would do all this just for us? No, neither one of us is worth all this mess. Ms. Miroslav is coming for dinner." She said smiling at the lettuce that she had begun cutting for salad.  
  
He wondered at her as he stirred the pot. He knew that she left every Sunday morning, presumably for church but she never bothered him about it or even mentioned that she went. She always wore gloves when she went out, along with a hat and she always wore dresses. Perhaps she was old fashioned; perhaps she enjoyed dressing as an old fashioned southern "lady."  
  
As he watched her brush a long strand of strawberry hair out of her eyes he realized he had never seen her with her hair down and he couldn't remember ever seeing her in trousers. That had to be strange for someone her age. She acted like a woman much older than her twenty some odd years.  
  
He was watching the liquid in the pot so intensely that he didn't hear her the first time she spoke.  
  
"Mr. Snape?" She said again. He looked up from the pot to find her watching him.  
  
"Yes." He said blandly.  
  
"Are you alright?" She questioned, concern written on her features.  
  
"Yes, fine thank you." He said turning back to the pot and mentally berating himself for getting lost in his thoughts. He rarely spent any amount of time with the girl but when he did he found that his mind always seemed to wander to her. In her presence he could think of nothing more than her, who she was, what she hid, and how she managed to maintain at least the pretense of happiness.  
  
Beth Ann put the bowl of salad in the refrigerator and checked the pots on the stove. She lifted the pot of pasta from the stove and strained it into the sink before placing a cover on the pot and setting it aside.  
  
"I need to run upstairs and change, do you mind stirring that for a bit?" She questioned as she cleaned up the cutting board.  
  
He gave a little nod of assent; she smiled and leaned across the stove turning the burner down, "Thanks, just keep stirring so it doesn't burn." She said as she headed off up the stairs.  
  
In the few minutes that she was gone he went over in his head what he knew of Ms. Miroslav. She was a little old lady, with a strong accent and long gray hair hidden by a scarf. When he had apparated to her house she told him that she had been living in the States for twenty years. She had moved from Russia where she had taught History of Magic at a small, elite magic school. She quit when the school did nothing in the fight against Voldemort and subsequently quit the magical world all together. He could not be sure how the old woman knew Beth Ann but that was unimportant.  
  
He heard her coming down the stairs then and continued to stir as she set the table quickly. A knock at the door caused her to jump then scoff at herself before straightening her dress and heading towards the front of the house.  
  
The night went very well. Mr. Snape was exceptionally courteous throughout the dinner, pulling out Ms. Miroslav's chair and refilling her glass. He treated her as his own grandmother. Ms. Miroslav seemed charmed by him, she chattered on about how sweet he was and how she wished her grandson was so good to her. It seemed that Mr. Snape was embarrassed by this for Beth Ann noticed a slight pink tint to his normally sallow skin.  
  
He maintained his typically stoic expression though and remained mostly silent as Ms. Miroslav talked about Russia and the children she taught then began talking about the school that Mr. Snape taught at and how well she liked the headmaster. True, Ms. Miroslav was the one that kept the conversation alive and neither of the housemates was required to talk as she chattered but Mr. Snape was surprisingly polite and attentive.  
  
When dinner was over Mr. Snape volunteered to walk Ms. Miroslav back across the street and she willingly obliged, taking his arm. On the walk back he asked her the question that had been playing on his mind the whole dinner.  
  
"Do you know.....?" He paused, not knowing how to ask.  
  
"No, dear, I only know what Dumbledore told me. Although I have known her for nearly five years and see her every week, she is still an unknown. We attend church together and I know that she speaks Russian very well, I believe at some time she probably lived there. That is all I can guess. She is a mystery to me also."  
  
When Snape arrived back at the apartment Beth Ann was cleaning in the kitchen, humming a tuneless melody seeming very content. He cleared his throat as not to startle her and she looked up from her dishes.  
  
"Thank you for walking her home." She said smiling at him. He nodded and picked up a dish towel and a plate from the drain. She quirked an eyebrow at him but didn't speak only shook her head and went back to the dishes with him drying beside her. When they were finished she closed the house up, locking doors and putting down blinds, while he watched then went into the den, tidying up, picking up stray books and shoes. Snape followed her and watched then slowly began up the stairs.  
  
"Mr. Snape," she said quietly causing him to turn on the stairs, "you are an enigma, you know that right?"  
  
She was smiling at him with a look of wonder in her pale eyes. He did not know how to respond for a moment but suddenly the words spilled out of his mouth, uncharacteristically unguarded, "As are you Miss....." he cleared his throat, "Beth." He said, whispering the name which sounded strange on his lips; he simply could not bring himself to call her Beth Ann.  
  
She met his eyes and cocked her head and for a moment she held his gaze then blinked slowly and allowed a timid smile to spread over her face. He thought he saw her nod slightly before she said, "Goodnight."  
  
He turned and walked up the stairs mildly cursing himself for letting his thoughts bubble so close to the surface and letting down his guard.  
  
~~~~~  
  
A few nights later she walked home from a movie through the quaint streets. She hummed in contentment as she strolled through the familiar squares. This was a beautiful city, perhaps her favorite city to live in, which was saying a lot. She walked along, cars slowly passing on the lighted streets, sight seeing or coming home from a long day of work. From behind her a police car sped around the square, sirens wailing and lights flashing. She was startled by the loud scream of the sirens breaking the peace of the warm night.  
  
As she rounded the last corner and headed into the square that she called home she saw a gathering of flashing lights and many people. She stopped mid stride noticing four police cars, an ambulance, and a van marked with the police department logo. They all sat across the square from her own town home, in front of Ms. Miroslav's. She approached the police line that formed a perimeter around Ms. Miroslav's townhouse.  
  
Oh please let her be ok, she thought, but she knew better, even as the thought entered her head she knew something terrible had happened. She glanced around, noticing the officers moving back and forth, the crowd that had gathered outside the police line and finally the ethereal green tinge that seemed to infuse the warm night air.  
  
After failing to catch the attention of the passing officers she turned, confused and bewildered to the small crowd that had gathered outside the police line. She searched the faces there but quickly found that she knew no one else until her eyes fell upon the door to her home. There standing in the shadows she saw her houseguest leaning against the doorway and watching the scene unfold. She hurried across the square to her doorstep, stopping at the bottom of the stairs.  
  
He watched as she hurried towards him, confusion apparent on her face. She looked up at him, her eyes full of pleading, "Do you know?" She whispered as if her voice was caught within her throat.  
  
"No." He said simply pushing himself away from the wall; she turned from him looking back at the surreal scene just a few paces from her house. He saw her shoulders give a heave as if she was taking a deep breath then begin to shake slightly as a stretcher was carried out of the house bearing a dark blue body bag. She backed up and sat on the stairs, not removing her eyes from the scene.  
  
He stood above her not sure what to do, he had told the truth he did not know what had happened but from the green tinge to the sky he could venture a guess. He had not talked to Dumbledore yet but was waiting on confirmation of his suspicions. For the moment though he knew that she needed someone to be there, not only to protect her if the Death Eaters chose to attack again.  
  
He moved silently down the stairs to stand beside the place where she sat, one glance revealed large tears silently rolling down her cheeks. He almost panicked, he did not know what to do with a crying woman, he had the juvenile urge to turn and run but that would do no good so he stayed. Without a word he sat next to her, closer than usual, so that there shoulders were brushing, lending her his silent support. He hoped this was enough, it felt entirely inadequate but he could not bring himself to do anymore, for fear of her reaction.  
  
Beside him she was struggling with herself. She knew instinctually that Ms. Miroslav was dead and it had not been a natural death. Who would do something like this? She was a harmless old lady. Her mind was filled with dreadful thoughts of what had happened to her sweet old neighbor who had been a constant in her life. She leaned into the man beside her, unconsciously needing to be closer to something sturdy. Her world was so safe now; she was never supposed to be afraid like this again. But looking across the street she felt her world begin to spin wildly out of her control once more.  
  
Snape felt her lean into him; just a slight pressure but it buoyed him. She needed him, he felt it in the way she lightly laid her head on his shoulder and he was heartened. Her breathing was ragged and he had the distinct impression that she was struggling to hold back a torrent of tears. He could feel her shaking then he heard her breath in deeply, a shaky breath accompanied by a small sob. Her breathing slowly became normal; she lightly swiped at her eyes but remained leaning against him.  
  
~~~~~  
  
* I knew an old lady that used this pet name for everyone. She referred to everyone as a silly goose but dropped the silly part for many people and called them goose. I thought it was cute so I put it in here. Plus I like the idea of someone calling Snape a funny name like goose. 


	5. Questions and Answers

AN: I am sorry it took so long to update (it seems I start every chapter with an apology) but I have been very busy. I finally have a new job which I think will offer me more time to write. You can thank my roommate for getting me motivated on this because she told me not everybody knows how this story is going to end because they aren't in my head with me (there's no room up there anyway) so I have to get going so you can all know how it's going to end. I will end with my plea for reviews, they make me happy and it's good to keep all the voices in my head happy ;)

Disclaimers: The title comes from a quote from Ambrose Bierce that I will borrow heavily from later but I will be sure to give proper credit as has been drilled into my head. Speaking of crediting people, I do not own any of the Harry Potter franchise; they come from the mind of J.K. Rowling as we all know.

REGION OF SOBS

Chapter 5 – Questions and Answers

They sat together in silence for about ten minutes before a burly young police officer approached them.

"Miss Jackson?" He said tentatively.

She sat up and wiped her eyes again. "Yes?"

"I am Officer Cooper, I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions."

She sniffled and looked down at her hands, glancing at Snape beseechingly as she did.

He took her cue gracefully, standing and holding out his hand to the officer, "I am Miss Jackson's houseguest, Professor Severus Snape."

The officer looked quite surprised by Snape's forwardness but shook his hand none the less. "I may have some questions for you also, sir."

"I'm quite certain that your questions can wait until morning, I'm sure Miss Jackson would like to get to bed."

Beth Ann looked up gratefully at him from her seat on the step. The officer hesitated before saying, "I'm sorry sir but I must get a statement from you both tonight." The sturdy young man seemed hesitant to cross the dark man in front of him who was currently glaring down at him from his position on the steps.

"In the morning." Snape said in a dangerous whisper. He could not explain why he felt the need to protect the girl; he knew eventually she would have to face what had happened tonight. For now, though, she seemed too fragile to answer this man's questions especially with the way he was looking at her like a hormonal teenager.

The officer cleared his throat biding his time before he turned to Snape and stated bluntly, "Sir if you both refuse questioning I will be forced to take you to headquarters."

From her vantage point on the step Beth Ann saw Snape's jaw muscle begin to work, he was grinding his teeth, a gesture she had learned to treat cautiously in the time they had lived together. She stood slowly still close enough to him to feel the touch of his shoulder.

"We will answer your questions if you will answer ours." She said quietly.

Snape turned to her with a questioning look but when the officer acquiesced with a grunted, "Fine." Snape nodded at her and turned back to the officer.

The officer watched the pair for a moment then asked, "Miss Jackson, were you home this evening?"

"Please call me Beth Ann and no I was at a movie tonight." She answered. The officer turned to Snape and opened his mouth to ask him a question when Beth Ann interrupted him, "What happened?"

The officer looked at her, surprised, "I can't reveal the details at this time." He said a bit slowly as if she were an idiot.

She raised her eyebrows at him and said, "Then you are finished with your questioning."

He cleared his throat and said, "Ms. Miroslav died of unnatural causes and some of your neighbors claim to have seen a group of three cloaked figures leaving her home just after an explosion of some kind." He turned to Snape, "Now where were you this evening, sir?"

"I was here but did not notice anything out of the ordinary." Snape stated, silently berating himself for not noticing.

"You heard no noises coming from the square, did you see anything suspicious?"

"No I was at the back of the house, unable to see the road, and if I did hear noises I would attribute it to the atrocious music the neighborhood children listen to at all hours of the day and night." Snape said sourly.

"What do you mean an explosion? Was there some sort of bomb?" Beth Ann put in immediately.

The young officer cleared his throat again and looked as if he didn't want to answer but at Beth Ann's pleading look said, "A few witnesses claim to have seen a bright green light emanate from the house then three black cloaked figures leaving the premises, two witnesses even claim to have seen a green skull floating in the sky over the house."

Beth Ann's eyes grew large while beside her Snape stiffened, a quick glance showed Beth Ann that his jaw muscle was twitching and his hands were forming and reforming fists.

"Thank you, Officer." She said with a note of finality. "If we think of anything else we will give you a call." She said placing a hand on Snape's sleeve and giving it a slight tug. He turned to her and taking her cue bid the officer a firm goodnight and turned heading up the stairs behind Beth Ann.

Once inside she headed straight back to the kitchen saying, "I think we need some very strong tea."

Snape stood hesitating in the living room, he must talk to Dumbledore but perhaps she needed him now, she may not be safe. He looked up to find her standing in the doorway to the kitchen watching him, "Are you alright?" She said, concern written on her face.

He nodded somewhat sharply and walked towards her and into the kitchen, she followed him and set about making the tea while he closed the blinds and checked the lock on the back door.

"Mr. Snape, what do you think they wanted?" She said not turning around to him but facing the teapot on the stove. "I mean they had to want something from her, they wouldn't just kill a harmless old lady." He could tell she was struggling to hold herself together. She took a deep breath and turned to him. "Please tell me you know something that I don't."

Snape was shocked; she seemed to know that he knew something. Perhaps he was being too paranoid but the pleading in her eyes made him think that she knew something herself. Of course she does, he reminded himself, she's hiding something that she doesn't want anyone to know, but she might possibly know that somebody might be interested in her little secret. He had never quite looked at it this way before, he never thought that perhaps she was running from her secret or running from others who might want this secret. He looked into her eyes and shook his head, to clear the fog of those thoughts; he wasn't even making sense to himself.

"No I do not know why they might have attacked her." He said, bewildered.

She squinted at him then nodded and turned back to the teapot. She now knew that he at least knew who it was that had attacked Ms. Miroslav, the way he had said 'they' made her think that he knew exactly who had killed her but perhaps he was being honest when he said he didn't know why. Although to see him musing silently she was certain he had a bit of an idea.

She finished the tea and took it to the table, pouring them both a cup; she then opened the cabinet above the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of vodka. She came back to the table and poured a liberal amount in her cup, then grinned at him over the bottle while sliding it across the table.

"I'm sure we could both use a little help sleeping tonight." She said a bit guiltily, shrugging as she brought the cup to her lips.

He watched her blow on the tea and then take a small sip, grimacing, either from the temperature or the alcohol he couldn't be sure which, but it reminded of his grandmother drinking a nasty tonic. He poured a bit into his tea, knowing that the little bit of alcohol wouldn't affect him; he had to have his head on his shoulders to talk to Dumbledore later.

They sat in silence for close to fifteen minutes before she tried to stifle a rather noisy yawn. She grinned sheepishly at him then stood taking his tea cup and hers, as well as the bottle of genuine Russian vodka that Snape had been staring at for some time now, lost in thought.

She put the bottle and cups away then turned and said, "I think that drink has done its job. I'm off to bed. Goodnight." She turned and he noticed that she was a bit unsteady, in fact she ran into the doorjamb and used it to guide her out the door, he smirked to himself, she certainly couldn't hold her liquor, she looked like Albus after a visit to Aberforth.

After he heard her ascend the stairs he followed and headed to his own room. This was not good news he had but Dumbledore had to know. He quickly put up more silencing charms and warded the bedroom door.

He took a pinch of floo powder and knelt before the fire. As he threw the powder into the flames he said "Albus Dumbledore" very clearly to the green flames. He felt his head spin around and around then finally come to a stop looking out at Dumbledore's office.

"Severus," he said turning from his desk full of papers, "how is everything on your side of the pond? Well I hope."

"No, Albus, there has been an attack on Ms. Miroslav." He answered gravely. "She was killed by three cloaked figures that I can only guess were Death Eaters. Witnesses claim to have seen the dark mark in the sky over her home."

Albus was on his feet in front of the desk, drumming his fingers against it. "Terrible," he muttered to himself then turning back towards Snape, "Severus do they know about Miss Jackson?"

"I do now believe so; they would have immediately come here if they knew of her..... involvement." He answered. "Albus, there is no way that I can be with the girl every minute of the day. She is unprotected through the day; I cannot possibly go to work with her."

"Yes, yes you are right. Something will have to be done. I will speak with the Order." Dumbledore stated, pensively staring out at his office.

"Albus, she is scared, and she knows something. It seems she knows that they were after her. How could she possibly know that? How could she know people are searching for her?" Snape finally put his thoughts into words.

"We cannot know Severus, we do not know the nature of her secret and we cannot know what she may or may not know."

Snape snarled and said, "So we are essentially the blind protecting our sighted companions from our sighted enemies. Bloody brilliant thinking, I must say. We are completely buggered." He ended in a low growl.

"Severus, all will turn out right in the end. We must not loose hope and succumb to despair. Despair is for those who see the end beyond all doubt. We do not.(1) Continue to protect her as best you can, I will work out the rest." Dumbledore said, finally looking at his fire and into Snape's eyes.

There was determination in the old wizard's eyes that did give him hope. Dumbledore had always been the only person who could ever make a promise such as the one he'd just made and make Snape believe it was possible to keep.

He nodded and backed out of the fire turning to the room behind him and crossing to the window. He would not be sleeping tonight; he turned and went downstairs carrying a book with him, he would read into the early morning before finally going upstairs to sleep a scant two hours.

(1)Can anyone guess where this quote comes from? Fifty points to whoever gets it first.


End file.
